


i'll be good

by whaticameherefor



Series: Reignite Our Love [3]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: A whole lot of feelings, Angst, Bondage, Dom!Betty, Dom/sub, F/M, Face-Sitting, Porn with Feelings, Restraints, Smut, Smutty Angst, Sub!Jughead, Subhead Jones, and the author, angsty smut, baby steps for bughead, healthy dose of realism post coitus, honestly not hardcore, kinky bughead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 20:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16070702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whaticameherefor/pseuds/whaticameherefor
Summary: It’s been almost two months since they got back together and he’s still walking on eggshells around her. It wasn’t as if he was too gentle, far from it. He’d happily fuck her harder, faster, rougher, longer. Whatever she requested, he delivered in spades.Slowly they were working back to where they were in every possible way. She understands that it’s going to take time. She just wants to speed things up a little bit in this area. She cravedmore.Or: Jughead makes amends.





	i'll be good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AquaMarinara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaMarinara/gifts).



> So, I was just gonna sit back and enjoy kink week like the rest of the heathens, but then Mari sent me this song, "I'll be good" by Jaymes Young. My brain did the thing that it does and it snowballed from there. It got smutty. And then it got kinda kinky. So, here I am with this humble offering. Highly recommend giving the song a listen because it's a beaut. And thank you to my betas @shrugheadjonesthethird and @redundantoxymorons.
> 
> This is a follow up to "back to you" and while it's not completely necessary to have read it to understand what's going on, it'd be a lot cooler if you did... 
> 
> Also, this is for @writeraquamarinara, who made the mistake of betaing my first fic and I just never left her alone after that. Happy (early) birthday! I hope you like it, girl!

* * *

 

Morning light peeks through the flimsy curtains in the bedroom of the trailer. Jughead lets out a low groan as he manages to blearily open one eye before closing it immediately. He smiles lazily as sleep leaves him and his world comes into focus. Betty stirs and wiggles closer to him, clinging to his body as she dreams.

 

She’s cuddled into his side, enveloped in his arms, her legs flung over his, hands wrapped around his midsection. He looks down on her and starts to comb his fingers through her messy morning hair. His heart swells at the sight, as though he hadn’t seen it every morning for the past few months.

 

It still doesn’t feel real to him. Her. Them. This. He never thought that they could come back from what had happened, but they did. They had. And they were stronger than ever.

 

His heart clenches painfully in his chest as he remembers the words she whispered to him the first morning they woke up together after their reunion. How she awoke unsure of what she’d find, and the relief on her face when she opened her eyes and he was there. She told him that she’d grown to hate the mornings during their time apart; they used to serve as a reminder of her loneliness and her life without him. That she’d sometimes stay up all night just so she wouldn’t have to face the morning after a night of dreaming of him.

 

It was because of that moment, and every other unspoken moment of pain he’d ever caused her over the years, that he vowed to do everything in his power to atone for his sins. That morning, he finally felt that he’d truly woken up from his self-imposed, self-destructive nightmare. He made a promise to himself that from that day forward that he would be a better man. For her. And every single morning, he pledged it all over again—he’d be a better man today.

 

Ever since the night when they realized that there was only one ending to their story, Jughead had been on a mission to make sure this time, they got it right. He knows most of the work is on his shoulders, as it should be. All of her misery was his fault and he had to make it right.

 

(He had never meant for any of this heartache to happen, but he wonders what he thought _would_ happen all those years ago. Did he not think about the fire he’d start? Did he pay no mind to the burnt, scattered ashes of their former selves he’d leave in his wake?

 

He never meant to be the reason the crescent-shape scars bled crimson. But he’d seen her palms. He’d kissed every single mark with tears in his eyes. The blood was on his hands and it scared him to death.)

 

Every morning they woke up together was like a blessing. So every morning, he worshipped her.  He tried to make every dawn glorious for her. He wanted to give her new memories, enough to drown out the painful ones, enough to make mornings her new favorite time of day.

 

It was just one of the many ways he was seeking her forgiveness — just a small piece of penance for the pain and suffering he caused. Some days, he’d whisper sweet nothings into her ear, nibbling and sucking at the flesh of her neck until her eyes flickered open and he kissed her soundly; she’d moan into his mouth, begging for more, to which he happily obliged.

 

Other times, he’d lift the sheets up and slither underneath, trailing kisses down her body until he reached her sweet sex, latching onto her clit. He’d lick and suck her, sometimes adding fingers to her opening. Other mornings, he’d drag his tongue down her slit and fuck her with it until she was awake and panting, hands clutching his hair, her orgasm coursing through her before she even opened her eyes.

 

This morning, he reaches around her for the sheet and pulls it down to expose her bare chest. He’d instituted a “no clothes in bed” rule after their reconciliation– he didn’t want anything between them so that he could touch her, all of her, whenever he needed. Every morning, he silently thanks himself for enforcing that rule because Betty, naked wrapped around him, with plump lips, flushed cheeks, and heaving chest was perhaps the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

 

He brushes a hand reverently around the curve of her breast before gingerly moving Betty’s arm so he could roll over partly on top of her, palming one breast gently and taking the other nipple into his mouth. She wakes with a gasp as his tongue laves over her hard peak. He looks up at her with half-lidded eyes, rasping out a _Morning_ in between licks.

 

“Juggie,” she whines as her back arches.

 

His tongue travels across her chest and latches onto the other side, forcing another cry to spill from her lips. After paying equal attention to both sides, he kisses and licks his way up to her neck, sucking marks on to her skin before soothing the bites with his tongue.

 

“Jug, please.”

 

He quickly dips a finger into her to test the waters. “Christ, Betts, how are you so fucking wet?”

 

“You, Juggie.”

 

He suppresses a groan at her answer as his finger slides back in, then out, in and out a few times before he adds another as he continues peppering kisses all over her body.

 

“I need you,” she pants, taking his head in her hands and bringing it up to kiss him. “Now.”

 

Jughead immediately grabs her hips, not needing to be told twice. He lines himself up, plunges into her heat, and as he soon as he’s buried to the hilt he says, “Fuck, baby, you always feel so good.”

 

“You too,” she gasps. “Fuck me hard, Juggie. Please.”

 

He bends down to kiss her before he slides all the way out and slams back into her, rough and deep. Encouraged by her cries and curses, he keeps up the punishing pace and circles her clit with his thumb until he can feel her walls start to clench around him. He thrusts into her a few more times and when she comes, he lets himself go, spilling inside her as he moans her name.

 

He collapses on top of her and her hands lightly drift down his sides, causing him to shiver. “Don’t,” he warns with a grin. “Still sensitive.”

 

She giggles and presses kisses to the side of his face. “Good morning.”

 

“Every morning I get to do that is a good morning.”

 

She rolls her eyes, stifling a smile, and pats his arm. He pulls out of her and rolls over to the nightstand, bringing back a baby wipe for her to clean up. She accepts it gladly, slides it over herself lightly and then sits up to throw it into the trash can.

 

He gets up from the bed, pulls on a pair of boxers, and walks over to the mirror, ruffling his hair, and sticking his chin out to check for stubble. He catches a glance of Betty in the mirror, stretching out on the mattress, smiling back at him. She looks like an angel with the light glowing around her, her blonde hair catching the sun’s rays like a halo. His gaze comes back to his reflection and he swallows. He doesn’t see someone worthy of this beautiful creature. All he sees is the devil staring back at him.

 

Only the devil could hurt an angel the way he has.

 

He’s not sure if his attempts to make amends will ever truly be enough to ease the ache in his chest when he thinks of the past, but that isn’t going to stop him from trying. He had started counseling to learn new ways of dealing with what life threw at him, leaving behind his questionable coping mechanisms. Betty had even joined him a few times, getting as much from the sessions as he did.

 

He stopped drinking, even causally, not wanting the temptation even a drop of liquor on his tongue might elicit. Being sober definitely helped him to see himself more clearly, something he didn’t necessarily want when he thought  back on their time apart, the memories no longer blurry and scattered in his mind. But he wasn’t surprised that he didn’t miss it; he took comfort in the pain sometimes, because he deserved to fully feel the weight of the damage. Plus, he replaced one addiction for another — a much more satisfying one.

 

He’d also gone to the health clinic the second day they’d been back together. (The first they hardly left his bed, let alone the trailer.) He knew how badly they both wanted to be with each other without any barriers, how desperately he needed to feel all of her again. She didn’t ask him to get tested and he’d always used protection, but he knew from the look on her face when he handed her the envelope declaring a clean bill of health that she was relieved. Free of any long-lasting repercussions from the transgressions during their two years apart, he knows that at least some of his misdeeds are forgiven, but never, ever forgotten.

 

Still, it doesn’t change the fact that his past leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and it probably will for a while, if not forever. Doesn’t change the fact that he’d been cold, weak, and merciless. No, he couldn’t change the past, but he could change the future. He’d wield an iron fist, keep his head on straight, and dedicate himself completely to Betty.  

 

Their eyes meet in the mirror and she notices the look of anguish on his face. She doesn’t need to ask, but she does anyway, tentatively. “What are you thinking about?”

 

He exhales and lets his gaze meet hers through the mirror. “You, baby,” he answers heavily. “Always you.”

 

“Jug—”

 

“I’m gonna make some coffee,” he says quickly and scurries from the room.

 

She huffs and falls back to the bed. She knows what he’s doing, what he’s been doing. It’s no secret. And it’s not like she’s complaining. In fact, she was enjoying the hell out of it. But that was the problem: she couldn’t get enough, she wanted more.

 

It’s been almost two months since they got back together and he’s still walking on eggshells around her. It wasn’t as if he was too gentle, far from it. He’d happily fuck her harder, faster, rougher, longer. Whatever she requested, he delivered in spades. She begged for the love marks she used to mourn when they left her body and she returned them in kind, needing them to claim each other again, because she wanted the world to know — she was his and he was hers.

 

And sometimes, the ghosts of who they used to be slipped through the cracks. He’d pin her hands above her head and tell her what a good girl she was, or she’d tease him for so long that he’d beg her to let him come, but she wouldn’t provide release until he made her orgasm first.

 

Slowly they were working back to where they were in every possible way. She understands that it’s going to take time. She just wants to speed things up a little bit in this area. She craved _more_.

 

Betty quickly slips on some underwear, throws one of Jughead’s t-shirts on, and pads out to the kitchen and over to the table. She sits in the chair underneath the window, the heat from the sun shining through, warming her back. She accepts the mug of coffee he hands her as he delivers a quick peck to her cheek and she smiles at the sweet gesture, forgetting for a minute that she’s annoyed. He sits diagonally from her and starts rummaging through the newspaper sections on the table top.

 

“Jughead, I think we need to talk.” He freezes, his hands clutching at the papers in his grasp and she realizes immediately that was _not_ the right opener and hastily attempts to correct herself, reaching her hand out to cover his. “Not that kind of talk. Shit, I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” he says as he lets out a shaky breath. _There he goes again, placating me._ She’d been the one to upset him and _he_ was trying to ease _her_ mind. It infuriates her. She is so fed up with him treating her with kid gloves.

 

“It’s about that, actually,” she blurts out in frustration as her hand comes back to clutch her coffee cup.

 

“What?” he asks, features clouded with confusion.

 

She sighs. “When are you gonna stop treating me like a porcelain doll? I’m not going to break, Jug.”

 

“I don’t think—”

 

“Yes, you do,” she cuts him off. “And I get it. I know you’re worried and I know what you’re doing. And as much as I love it, and God, _I do love it_. I really, really do...” He chuckles at her enthusiasm and she smiles in return. “Eventually, we need to get back to reality. I know you don’t think I’m this perfect woman who can do no wrong, so you need to stop treating me like I am.”

 

“It’s not that,” he says lifting the chair slightly to scoot closer to her. He takes her hands in his and his head drops to stare at their entwined fingers, unable to look her in the eyes. “I know I don’t deserve you after...after everything. I’m just trying to prove that I’m worthy of you. Or at least that one day, I will be.”

 

Betty’s heart constricts painfully in her chest. She disentangles their hands and cups his cheeks with her palms, but his gaze is determinedly fixed down.

 

“Hey, look at me,” she directs, and has to pull his face a bit to look into his eyes. “You are worthy, you are deserving, and I love you. I trust in us, okay? I trust _you_. But you need to trust me, too.”

 

He nods and looks so deeply into her eyes she feels as if he’s staring into her soul.

 

“I do, I do trust you. I just have a little trouble remembering it sometimes.”

 

Her lips quirk into a small smile. “Okay good,” she confirms, satisfied. “I have an idea.”

 

“Oh no.”

 

“Shut it, Jones, this is a good one.”

 

He chuckles and smiles back at her. “Alright, you got me. Consider my interests piqued.”

 

Suddenly nervous, she traps her bottom lip in her teeth. She knows she has no reason to be worried, they’d done this before. They were good at it. Very good.

 

“Do you remember the kind of stuff we used to do together?”

 

Jughead’s brow furrows. “You gotta be a little more specific, Betty.”

 

Her mind runs through a million ways for her to say it, but in the end, she settles for the direct approach. “I want to have kinkier sex.”

 

Jughead almost laughs but thinks better of it and it comes out as more of a cough. He’s not surprised, he just wasn’t expecting it. Although, now that she brings it up, he’s not sure why. He remembers all too well and shifts in his seat as he feels himself hardening at the thought.

 

“Oh...kay?”

 

“Okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Really?” She beams back at him and kisses him, her hands coming around his neck as she pulls back.

 

“Yeah.” He lifts her chin with his forefinger. “‘Of course, baby. We uh—we did get pretty kinky back then, didn’t we?”

 

She giggles and nods enthusiastically. “We did.”

 

“So, what did you have in mind?”

 

She crinkles her nose in that adorable way she has and says, “Can I surprise you?”

 

He pulls her in again for a reassuring kiss. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

***

 

It’s been a few days since he and Betty had talked about being more adventurous again and it had been absolute torture wondering what she had in store for him. To say he’s been distracted would be an understatement. And his friends were definitely taking advantage of that fact.

 

She’d practically forced him out the door so he could spend time with them because ever since they’d rekindled their romance, he’d been spending almost all of his free time with her.

 

He’d insisted that he didn’t need to spend any more time with them than usual, but she had put her foot down. So begrudgingly, he told Sweet Pea, Fangs, and Toni he’d meet them at the Whyte Wyrm for a few games of pool, but after the fifth reference to him being head over heels, he was seriously starting to regret it.

 

“Dude, what are you drinking?” Fangs questions after missing his shot by a mile.

 

“Seltzer,” he says, raising the glass of fizzy water, taking a sip.

 

“I don’t get it,” Sweet Pea interjects as he comes up to stand beside Jughead. “It’s not like you were a blackout drunk or anything, man. You don’t need to be sober Sam all the time.”

 

“I don’t need to drink to have fun,” he responds and Sweets scoffs in return. “Besides, I’ve found better ways to relieve stress, alright?”

 

“Yeah, fucking a blonde bombshell every night would help me relieve stress, too.”

 

Jughead punches Sweet Pea’s arm a little too hard for it to be a friendly gesture. “Don’t talk about her like that or next time it’ll be your face.”

 

Sweet Pea backs up, hands in the air. “Point taken, Jones. I was just saying…”

 

“Well, don’t.”

 

“You need to relax. A beer would do wonders for that,” Fangs teases.

 

“Hey,” Toni pipes up. “He said he’s good. Quit busting his chops or I’ll bust your ass.”

 

Jughead shoots her an appreciative glance before he sets his drink down on the table and grabs the pool cue. He lines up his shot and sinks the final striped ball. All that’s left now is the eight ball and he takes a moment before he calls out “Eight ball, side pocket,” leans down again, pulls the cue back, and brings it forward to connect with the white ball. It hits the desired ball with a thunk and drops into the pocket.

 

“Nice!” Toni leans over and high-fives Jughead. “Looks like you two idiots are buying.”

 

“Whatever,” Sweet Pea retorts as he makes his way over to the bar. “Not like a damn seltzer’s gonna break the bank anyway!”

 

***

 

After a few more games, Jughead quickly sends Betty a text to let her know that he’s on his way back home, says goodbye to his friends, and heads back to the trailer. As he approaches, he notices that most of the lights are out. He frowns at the thought that she might have already fallen asleep watching TV, as she has a habit of doing. But when he opens the door and looks around, he doesn’t see Betty in the kitchen or the living room.  

 

“Betty?” he calls out.

 

“In here!”

 

Jughead makes his way down the short hallway but stops dead at the threshold. His eyes lock on Betty first. She’s standing next to the bed, dressed in a skin-tight, see-through dark purple negligee, no panties, and thigh-high black stockings trimmed with lace. His gaze falls to the bed where he can see restraint straps sitting on all four corners of the mattress. His cock twitches and he licks his lips, trying to control his emotions.

 

Once he feels like he can speak, he raises an eyebrow and says, “Well this is...new.”

 

She laughs, but fuck if it’s not the sexiest, most seductive laugh he’s ever heard. “Well, Juggie, we _are_ adults now. We can get the real deal. We don’t need to use the odds and ends we found in my parent’s garage anymore.”

 

“Ah, the good ol’ days.”

 

Betty looks at him, facade faltering just for a moment and tells him sincerely, “Yeah, they were, Jug.” Their eyes meet before she continues. “But this can be even better now if we completely trust each other again. It’s the only way—” she takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders, determined. “—The only way this, we will work. I want this to work, don’t you?”  

 

Jughead doesn’t need to think at all, because it’s what he wants more than anything. He doesn’t need any convincing; he was all in from the moment he met her. “Of course I do.”

 

A smile slowly creeps its way over her face and her eyes dance wickedly. “Good.” She nods. “Then take your shirt off and sit on the bed.”

 

He toes off his shoes as he lifts the hem of his shirt up and over his head, before bounding over to the bed and perching on the edge. As he bends over to remove his socks, she saunters over to him and when he sits back up, she situates herself between his legs. His hands automatically drift up to her hips, hands gliding over the material. She knocks his beanie off as she runs her hands through his hair and he can’t help but hum happily at the feeling of her fingers drifting over his scalp.

 

Betty lowers herself to her knees and begins to unfasten the buttons on his jeans. Once free, she slowly pulls the zipper all the way down and he lifts his hips to help her slide everything off.

 

“Oh, Juggie,” she chastises once his dick springs free. “We haven’t even begun and you’re already so hard for me.”

 

“I can’t help it, all I needed was one look at you and I was ready.”

 

She smiles sweetly. “Such a good boy.” Jughead swallows and he closes his eyes so he can focus on the feeling of her hands roaming over his shoulders and down his chest. She pushes him back onto the bed and climbs on top of him, legs settling either side of his torso. “But, you haven’t always been good, have you?”

 

He shakes his head, the gravity of her words hitting him as his hands come around to rest on her ass. “No.”

 

“That’s right. In fact, sometimes you were very _naughty_ , weren’t you?”

 

He nods his head.

 

“What do you think we should do about that, hm?” Her hands drift over one of his nipples, fingernail scratching ever so lightly against it, and he has to fight the urge to lift his hips up against her. “I think you might need to be punished.”

 

“How?”

 

“Since it’s one of your favorite things to do… I think not letting you touch me might be sufficient.” She pauses, grinding her hips against him. “But I don’t trust you to have the self control, so I’m going to help you out a little.”

 

Betty continues to rock her hips back and forth on top of him, moaning. His hands act without his knowledge and they start to drift up and down her back. She reaches behind her to grab his hands and pin them above his head.

 

“Now, I’m going to put these restraints on you. Are you going to behave?”

 

He nods, eyes following her every moment as she maneuvers his right leg to align with the strap, secures him in, and moves to the other leg to do the same. He’s propped up on his elbows as she comes to hover over him.

 

She runs her hand over the crown of his head and when she gets to the back, she digs her fingers in, gathering his hair in her hands and pulls his head back, exposing his neck to her. She brings her tongue slowly up his throat and nibbles on his ear when she reaches it.

 

“I said, are you going to behave?” she whispers into his ear, sending a chill through him.

 

He holds his hands out, ready to be locked in, ready for her to use him for her own pleasure. Tonight, she came first and he was going to strap in and enjoy the ride. “I’ll be good.”

 

Satisfied with that answer, she takes his left hand and stretches it out to the center of the straps and buckles him in. When she reaches over to the other side, her chest gets dangerously close to his mouth and he has to will himself not to turn his head slightly to the left to nip at her breasts, as he usually would. She pulls his other arm up so she can secure the final restraint.

 

She leans back and sits up on her knees so she can enjoy the full picture of Jughead completely at her mercy. She bites her lip as her right hand drifts over her breast and down her stomach, lifting the fabric with her other hand so she has better access. When her middle finger dips into her slit, she closes her eyes and lets out a low moan as she rubs circles around her clit.

 

He watches as she touches herself and wants to wait for her to make the next move but he’s so turned and out of practice, he asks desperately, “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

 

Her eyes open slowly and her head lowers to look at him, eyebrow raised. “Did I say you could talk?”

 

Jughead shakes his head and once again stifles the urge to thrust up against her.

 

“So disrespectful, Juggie. I think you need to learn your lesson,” Betty taunts as she raises herself up and inches closer to his face. She braces herself with the top of the headboard, hovering over him. “Use your mouth for better things.”

 

His head arches up, searching for her, trying to connect but she backs away, laughing. “So impatient, aren’t you?” All Jughead can do is nod eagerly, desperate to taste her.

 

As slow as she can stand it, Betty lowers herself back over his face. His tongue darts out to lap at her sensitive bundle of nerves and she gasps at the feeling.

 

He licks and sucks at her relentlessly, only stopping for a few seconds every time he needs air, but returns with a renewed fervor. Betty get lost in the pleasure, concentrating only on his tongue dipping into her, swirling around her, and it doesn’t take long until she can feel her climax building inside her. She tells him to keep going, she’s almost there and soon after she jerks forward as her release hits her but he doesn’t stop his ministrations, doesn’t dare until she tells him to.

 

Once he’s worked her through her orgasm, she lifts up and slides back, bringing her lips to his so she can taste herself.

 

“Please,” he whimpers into her mouth. “Please, I need to come. I can’t...I need you. I don’t know how long—”

“Don’t you dare come until I say you can.” His cock twitches again at the authority in her voice and Betty smiles. “You’re lucky I love your dick filling me up.” She slips her hand in between them and grabs his dick and presses the tip up against her slit, teasing herself with him. “Are you gonna be a good boy if I let you come?”

 

“Yes,” he says hungrily. “I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll be good, I promise. Please—” The last word barely makes it out before she’s sinking down onto him and he can’t stop the curse that leaves his lips. “Fuck, Betty.”

 

She starts to rock back and forth on top of him, lifting and lowering her hips, reveling in the feeling of him sliding in and out of her, hitting the perfect spot that makes her knees weak. They find their rhythm easily, an act like second nature to them at this point.

 

 **“** Betty, please, I’m gonna...can I please?”

 

“Yes, Juggie,” she pants. “Come with me.”

 

Their hips meet again and again and he lets out a growl as he comes at last and she cries out as she collapses onto his chest, both of them breathing heavily as they come down from their high. She raises her head from where she had been laying it and starts to press kisses to his chest, making her way up his throat and stopping at his lips where she connects one last kiss. Sighing contently, she raises her hips up and lets him slide out of her, clenching so nothing drips out.

 

She reaches over to the nightstand to grab a wipe and quickly cleans herself off before she returns her attention to him. Betty grins sheepishly as she she begins working on the one of the straps around his hand. “Was that...are you okay?”

 

“More than, baby.” As soon as his hand is free, he snakes it into her hair, pulling her to him for a long, languid kiss. “That was amazing.”

 

She smiles as she moves down to work on the restraints on his legs. As she releases them, she caresses his ankles where the straps have dug into his skin. Jughead uses his freed hand to undo the restraints on his other and they both finish at the same time. She crawls back onto the bed and lays down beside him, her hand coming up to his chest to dance her fingers across his pecs.

 

They lay in silence for a while, content to simply be with each other. Betty settles her head in the center of his chest and closes her eyes as she listens to his heartbeat and breathing even out.

 

Jughead’s thoughts drift, as they tend to do during quiet moments, to their time apart. All the tears he caused. To every time their flame reignited, and he’d stomp out the sparks. He had feared that he’d caused irreparable damage – that he’d shut out her light forever. Slowly, he was realizing that Betty Cooper was a wildfire that would not easily be tamed.

 

“It’s for you, you know,” Jughead whispers, breaking the silence.

 

“What’s that?” she asks, still tracing patterns on his skin, memorizing every inch all over again.

 

“My heart.”

 

She lifts her head and brings her arms underneath her to prop her chin up, allowing her to meet his eyes. “I love you, you know. More than I can stand, sometimes.”

 

“More than I deserve.”

 

“Stop,” she says fiercely. “No more of that, okay?”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, bursting into a toothy grin.

 

She rolls her eyes and slaps his chest lightly. “Shut up.”

 

“I think you’re gonna need to make me, Cooper,” he returns playfully .

 

She pushes herself up, arms on either side of him, and cocks an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Jones?”

 

“Definitely.” He sits up and moves back against the pillows, opening up his lap as she swings her legs over his. “You up for it?”

 

“Always.”

 

As he ravishes her with kisses, he thinks about all the innocent, perfect things Betty would do that he used to doubt. He didn’t see everything she was doing to try to tell him she loved him; he was too busy making sure she knew exactly how much he loved her. But he knows it now. His uncertainty washes away with each smile, each caress, each kiss. He didn’t have anything to doubt. He knows that now.

 

He’s not sure how he let himself miss out on her presence in his life for the past few years, but he’s determined to make it up to her. He’d move heaven and earth. He’d pull the moon from the sky for her.

 

He’ll shower her with love and attention and he’ll make sure she knows exactly what she means to him, every single day. What he’s willing to do to atone for all the things that he’s done all these years.

 

He’ll be good, he promises himself. For all the times that he never could.

 

He’ll be good for _her_. Because Betty Cooper is his world. And he’ll love the world like he should.


End file.
